


Melda Tári

by doctormccoy



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Commission fic, F/M, Female!Faramir, First Time, Past Aragorn/Arwen, Political Marriage, happy endings, porn with a little plot, post-movies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-13
Updated: 2013-08-13
Packaged: 2017-12-23 09:49:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/924915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctormccoy/pseuds/doctormccoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arwen has left for Valinor and now that the war is over, Aragorn needs a Queen. As the daughter of the former Steward of Gondor, and the well respected Captain of the Guard, Mira is the most logical option. But Aragorn starts to realize that she may not just be a wife of convenience and he begins to finally let Arwen go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Melda Tári

**Author's Note:**

> Commission delivery for the wonderful, extremely patient [bitsandbobsoffluffandstuff](http://bitsandbobsfofluffandstuff.tumblr.com). 
> 
> The title is in Quenya and means "beloved queen".
> 
> As far as what a female Faramir looks like, I don't know bitsandbobs personal headcanon for her, but I pictured her along the lines of [Amanda Seyfried](http://downloads.xdesktopwallpapers.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/Amanda-Seyfried-Smiling-in-Blue-Top.jpg). Mostly because I'm in love with her beautiful everything.

She'd been so beautiful, dressed from head to toe in pale silks with a crown of silver and mithril upon her head. The silks had been a wedding gift from Legolas, and the crown from Gimli, forged with materials taken from the reclaimed mines of Moria. 

His old friends and companions were glad to see him finally wed, and, hopefully happy with the decision he had made. 

Arwen, sick with the evil plaguing Middle Earth and fading fast, had left for the lands beyond the sea with the rest of her kin. Aragorn did not begrudge her this, nor her Father's insistence that she go, for had she stayed it was likely that she would have died from the darkness spreading from Mordor.

But that did not mean his heart was not heavy with the loss of her, giving him over into intense moods of melancholy. 

The people were nervous without an established line of succession, fearing that another mad Steward would take the throne and drive them into ruin, and so they demanded that their King be wed. 

Who better than Faramira, sister to the hero Boromir, daughter of the former line of Stewards, and heroine of the last battle for Middle Earth? Shield maiden of Gondor and Captain of the Guard, Mira was well known and beloved by the people already, and she had earned Aragorn's friendship and respect many times over. She was the most logical, and obvious, choice, and while his affections for her were not love, nor her's for him, she was someone he could live a comfortable life with. 

And so the betrothal was announced and there was much celebration in the city, for their King had found a Queen. 

If Mira felt she had been trapped into this political marriage by the consequences of her birth then she said nothing, save the patient look she'd always worn that said she would weather any hardships that came her way and forge onward without complaint. She named her second as the new Captain of the Guard, an honor she insisted he had earned many times over with no trace of jealousy or despair.

Royal weddings took a very long time to organize, however, and so for many months Aragorn took the time to court his soon to be Queen, partially so he could get to know her, but also to show the people that this was real. And in this time he was surprised by his growing affection for this strange woman, who walked among the people as one of them rather than as their future Queen. Whether it was ruining her dress by climbing up onto a rooftop to retrieve a trapped pet, or playing with the children in the mud, Mira seemed utterly indifferent to the significance of her rank. 

She was a different kind of ruler. A Queen of the People. And they loved her for it.

And so, in the height of spring, when the land was filled with the energy and life of a world reborn from the icy clutches of winter, they were wed in a grand ceremony upon the highest peak of the city.

But many things can change in no time at all, and instead of being pushed into a marriage with one he considered a friend, Aragorn found himself surprised that he had, in fact, been wed to the woman he had come to love and cherish above all else. He knew it when Legolas led her down the stone walkway and she stopped to pick up a flower that had been thrown and tucked it behind the ear of a dark haired child.

Her blonde hair was braided with white flowers and the delicate circlet shone bright in the sunlight, like a ring of starlight in the glowing fire of her hair. She was the image of a new beginning given life and form, and he could do little more than stare as she stood opposite him and took his hands, a flicker of a smile on her pale lips. 

It had felt like a lifetime since that morning, with the great ceremony and the feast and the dancing that had followed it, but finally they had retired to his quarters, and Aragorn let his gaze fall upon the form of his new wife, still clad in her white silks, though her braids had come apart and the flowers gone from the golden tresses. Her grey eyes met his own and she lifted the circlet from her head, laying it gently upon the table, all the while keeping her gaze fixed on Aragorn's. He felt entranced by it, by her, and he moved forward with measured steps until he was standing in front of her, bare inches apart. And when she reached up and removed the heavy silver crown from his own head and laid it beside her own, he could not suppress the rush of heat through his body. 

Feelings he didn't know he was even still capable of anymore settled deep in his belly and Aragorn reached up to card his fingers through her hair, still soft as silk despite the rigors of the day. Grey eyes sank shut and he feared she would pull away, only to find himself pulled closer by a strong hand on his wrist. He cupped his palm to her cheek and her eyes opened again, staring back with equal desire in their depths.

Aragorn leaned in to kiss her, circling his arm around her waist to draw her against him, fingers buried in the golden light of her hair.

And for the first time in many long months, the dark sorrow that plagued his heart at Arwen's loss was silenced. 

He likes to think that he took her to bed that night, but Mira was the one to slowly guide him backwards until his knees hit the bed and he sank down onto it. She was the one to divest them of their clothing, removing each bit of ceremonial armor and robes until sat bare upon their marriage bed, watching as steady fingers undid the many ties and lacings of the white silk that shrouded her. 

Her skin was pale as moonlight from being hidden beneath the many layers of armor and leather she had worn as the Captain of the Guard, spotted with freckles that he itched to trace with his tongue. Her breasts were full and looked as soft as her thighs, muscled as they were from long days spent on horseback. Her belly lacked the hardened definition of his own, but there was strength in her body, and Aragorn admired it, from the puckered scars she had earned during the battle for Middle Earth to the swell of muscle in her arms and shoulders that marked her as an archer and a master of the sword. 

And she came to him willing and wanting, this beautiful creature he had come to love over these past months, into his bed and his arms, skin soft as satin against his own. They laid claim to one another with mouths and hands, leaving bruises in their wake as they moved together, her on top and him beneath her, allowing her to take and have and hold as she desired. 

Her mouth tasted like the honeyed mead they'd drank at the feast, lips pliant and searching against his own, and when she guided him to sink into the warmth of her body she swallowed each and every cry of pleasure wrung from him. 

They made love three times that night, tangled together in the silk sheets of their wedding bed. The second time came not long after the first, her curled in the tight embrace of his arms with her back to his chest, their bodies slowly rocking together. The third came after he had made her come from his fingers alone, three buried deep inside her while his thumb rotated into her bud, dragging ragged cries of pleasure from her. 

He'd slid between her thighs as she came down from her high and gently pressed inside her, covering her body with his own and sealing their mouths together. And when they finally drew apart and lay back upon the pillows to catch their breath, it was with smiles on their lips and a warmth in their hearts.

An unspoken promise to talk about the things that had transpired between them that night lay in the air as they settled into an easy rest, her body folded into his arms and tucked against his side so easily, like she'd belonged there all along and they'd just been too foolish to put the pieces together.

She healed him that night, his beloved Queen of the People. With every kiss and murmured endearment and plea for more, she put back the pieces of himself he believed had followed Arwen into Valinor. 

And while he still felt the ache of her loss, it was diminished now in the embrace of his warrior Queen. 

So Aragorn, heir of Isildur and King of Gondor, freed the memory of Arwen from the bonds of his heartbreak and let the light of Mira, daughter of Denethor, fill him up with new hope for a future that no longer seemed so dark and endless.

And he knew peace.

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written LOTR fic before, so, I hope I did the characters semi justice. 
> 
> And of course your usual amount of super cheese factor, because that's what I'm best at.
> 
> I realized like halfway in there was no dialogue, so I decided to make that the thing for this fic.


End file.
